


Another Life

by Cosmignon



Category: Dice Funk Podcast D&D Campaign
Genre: but drop is just here like, emotionally? so confused. psychologically? absolutely stumped, i think it makes more sense just like reading it, this is like. a weird ass au, where everyones ok physically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-29 11:13:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16263029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cosmignon/pseuds/Cosmignon
Summary: There was nothing.............Then he opened his eyes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't remember when I started this. I'm pretty sure this is something I'd fiddle with when I couldn't sleep and I don't know if I'll ever keep writing this but you know what? I think what I wrote is pretty good. I'm sharing it with you all, enjoy this odd au-alternate-take-whatever-the-fuck.

“Maybe today’s the day.”

Drop took a long, steady breath and closed his eyes.

He didn’t want to look at anyone’s faces, he just needed to breathe. He exhaled.

He was ready.

“I’ll give you anything,” Vinnie’s voice was the clearest thing he’d ever heard. She sounded so sad.

Then the world fell silent, and even though his eyes were already shut, he could tell that everything had gone dark. Darkness stretched outward to every corner of his universe, and inward to every fiber of his being.

There was nothing.

…

…

…

…

Then, he opened his eyes.

Light and color blurred as they hit him like a swift kick to the face. He shut his eyes tight again, but the light still made its way through his eyelids. It hurt. The darkness had been so all consuming, he’d forgotten light even existed.

As he slowly squinted in the haze, he noticed that the world, whatever world he was in, felt like it was tilted sideways. At first he couldn’t make much out, but as he kept staring at the blurs of color his senses slowly returned to him.

The gentle sound of the wind brushing past a window, the distinct sensation of fabric weighing down on his body – the world wasn’t sideways, he was lying down – the smell of a musty and old room, well lived in.

He would have stayed like that forever, just trying to process these odd yet familiar sensations, if he hadn’t noticed a humanoid figure step in through the open doorway across the room.

“You seriously still sleeping in?” the figure asked, sounding irritated for a reason that escaped Drop. Was it a trick question? He hadn’t been sleeping… or maybe he had. Who knew at that point. “Hey – I see you got your eyes open, get up!” they demanded, and Drop didn’t feel like finding out what would happen if he didn’t comply.

He sat up slowly on the bed, and felt the deep weight of fatigue crushing him down. So, not everything was foreign.

He rubbed his eyes. He could see the room more clearly – it was a bedroom of some kind, with a dresser and window and rug, and stone walls covered in sparse decorations like small paintings and woven blankets. He still didn’t recognize who the figure was however. He was a tall, dark skinned man, about as old as he was, maybe a bit older, and he was standing in the doorway with a displeased look on his face and his arms crossed.

“Who…” Drop thought of his words carefully, “…who are you?”

The figure laughed dismissively, “What’s that supposed to mean? C’mon, just get dressed, we can’t be late.” He walked off into the hall, leaving Drop alone.

Drop stood up and looked around the room a bit more. Nothing stood out to him… That was, until he looked out the window.

He could see that this house was far away from anyone else, since the only other building her saw was a shed. But more peculiar than that, a gnawing, static feeling in his gut told him he recognized more than he would have guessed. Grey, ashy smoke lazily drifted through the air, floating down from the distant mountain tops. The only time it had been this thin was far back in his memory… in that brief time in his life before the flooding had started.

He clenched at his tunic – he looked down – now it was a dark blue nightshirt.

He swallowed dry air and tried to follow as the stranger had ordered. Following orders, completing tasks, that always helped clear his head. He opened the dresser. It was filled with an assortment of different, yet very similar, clothes; mostly hues of grays and blues, some suits and some casual-wear. He didn’t know what to pick, he was so used to a strict dress code, not having to worry about these sorts of things.

He must have taken a long time, simply looking over the clothes at his disposal, because he heard footsteps coming back toward him.

“Drop!” This man looked and sounded much older than the other man who had come into the room. He also had dark skin, with deep set wrinkles and thinning hair. He was wearing a musty gray suit, with a slightly crooked tie. His expression conveyed not anger, but perhaps disappointment. “What are you doing that’s taking so long?”

“I – uh,” Drop struggled to find the words, “I don’t – know – clothes – ,”

The old man pinched two fingers at the bridge of his nose.

“Listen, if you don’t want to go, just don’t.” he sighed.

“Go where?” Drop nearly pleaded, unsure what else to do.

“Don’t act like you forgot!” the man pointed out the door, down the hall, “Your brothers and I have been waiting for you a good half hour now, if you keep up we’ll miss the next boat.”

“I’m not acting I,” Drop’s insides froze. Brothers? “I have … clothes...”

The old man… his … whoever he was… sighed again and stamped toward him until he pushed Drop away from the dresser.

“I’ll just get something for you – here,” He dragged out a faded blue suit and tossed it to Drop, “Put this on, now, and do it fast.”

He walked back out of the room without another word. Drop hesitantly looked over the suit before deciding it would be best to keep going along with whatever was happening.

The suit was stiff and didn’t fit quite right against his frame, as if it had been tailored for someone thinner than him. He couldn’t fix it, so he walked out of the room.

The rest of the house was as old and worn as his bedroom. Here an old wooden table with wooden chairs, there a couch with a frayed blanket thrown over it. An uncomfortable icy feeling was burrowed in his gut, but Drop tried to ignore it as he reached the front door.

He stepped outside, and was greeted by the old man impatiently tapping his foot, and the younger man looking equally annoyed. Next to him there stood a third man, who looked almost exactly like the second man, except his hair was combed back more neatly. Instead of looking at Drop, he was passing the time by looking through a binder filled with paper.

“Finally!” the old man cried, “Let’s get going already, the boat’s about to leave!”

“About time,” the first brother said.

“Yes, let’s,” the second brother said pointedly, casting a glare at Drop before he and the others all started to walk down the path toward the shore. Drop could see the shore from the house, about a 15 minute walk.

For several minutes, Drop quietly followed behind the three men leading him down the steep, rocky road. Thousands of questions were swimming in his head, each more alarming than the last. _Who were these people? Why was he back in the Tiger Mountains? Could they be…? But how would that be possible? They’d be dead if he was alive, he’d be dead if they were alive._

Finally, he quietly stepped behind the neater looking young man, and asked him, “Do you know where we’re going?” in a hushed tone the other two wouldn’t be able to hear.

The young man looked at him as though he’d just asked him to jump head first into the ocean.

“Excuse me?” he asked.

“Please,” Drop lowered his voice even further, “I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Drop -,” the young man started, then sighed in exasperation, then started again, “I’m not in the mood for games this morning.”

“I’m not playing around, I’m serious.”

Although he was still glaring at him, the man said, “Rosemary Manor.”

“Uhm…” He looked past the accusing gaze of the man who was apparently his brother, and saw that they were coming up to the shore. “Ok… Sorry, let’s just get on the boat.”

The young man then turned away to hasten his step, yelling at the captain of the large sail boat to stay put for the late boarding passengers.

So they were going to Mykonos. To see the Rosemary family. For what, he didn’t know yet, but he had a feeling he was supposed to know, or at least, he was expected to know.

From that moment onward, Drop decided not to say much unless he was spoken to. He got on the boat with his… family, and they found a place to sit. The boat slightly lurched as it left the port, and soon enough it was sailing out, away from the Tiger Mountains. As Drop looked back at the rapidly shrinking shoreline, he saw that it was much different than before. There were houses sporadically dotting the entire coast, and the further upward they went the more compact they became, until they reached a point where they started to disperse once more. Then, even further up, he could just barely make out a tall, gray building that overlooked all the others. The Monastery.

His eyes were locked on the monastery. Even more questions buzzed around in his head about the other monks there, about Sheithayne. Before he could further contemplate these questions, someone tapped him on his shoulder. He turned his head and his neat brother was looking at him again, with his binder held up at him.

“I grabbed this from the study, you take a look over it on the way to Mykonos.” He said this like it was just a fact of life that he’d look over it, whatever “it” was, whether or not he’d told him to. Not wanting to argue, he took the binder and started flipping through it from the start.

It seemed to be a whole lot of nonsense at first. Lists of names next to amounts of gold and silver, next to random assortments of things like different kinds of wood, furniture, building names. He strained to remember anything he actually knew about his family, in hopes that it would make things clearer. There was one thing: his grandparents had tried to teach him how to do woodworking. That was right, they’d worked with this stuff for a living, this must have been some sort of binder filled with files about the family business. He didn’t know what half of it was for, but now at least he had a vague idea.

He looked over each page for about a minute each, trying to absorb what he could. Perhaps even if he didn’t understand it, taking the time to look over everything would make it look like he was definitely sure he knew what he was doing. It was the least stressful way to pass the time, the only other way he could imagine being that he’d have to talk even more with his family.

By the time he got half way through the binder, he looked up and saw that the ship was out in the middle of the ocean now, too far from any of the islands to see land. The brother who’d given him the binder was up and walking around on the ship, talking to the other passengers. His other brother was reclined back in his seat, and his father seemed to be taking a nap. How old was that guy anyways?

Drop busied himself again with reading through the rest of the binder. He was starting to pick up on patterns in the legal speak, so that was good. It seemed like his family was in the business of building almost anything from wood, and these were forms about selling these things to people, and occasionally buying supplies for themselves. He wondered why he needed to read over all of this, and worried that he had to talk to people about it. He really hoped that wasn’t the case.

The ship’s horn sounded when Drop had reached that last several pages of the binder. Mykonos was coming in fast in the distance, and it was much bigger than he’d last seen it. The entire city seemed to shine under the bright Lorelei sun, and the sea was dotted with dozens of other boats, both docked and sailing around. There was even a coastline, with an actual beach, unthinkable to him just yesterday.

He saw his brother walking back toward the family, and Drop drew his attention.

“Interesting read...” Drop didn’t know what else to say. He held the binder out, which was promptly snatched out of his hands.

“I would hope so, with how long you took to read through it all.” His brother sounded annoyed, but then a tinge of concern broke through his face. “You have been acting strange all morning Drop, should we have left you back at home?”

“I don’t know.” He really didn’t.

“Could have gotten sick off the smoke fumes,” the other brother chimed in, “It can happen.”

“Hmmm” the first brother tsked, “Well, whatever it may be, if you actually do start to feel ill, just try to find a place to lie down at the Rosemary’s house. Think you can do that?”

“Maybe, yeah.” Drop muttered.

They were all quiet again as the ship started to slow down and reach the city.


	2. Chapter 2

As they stepped off the boat, Drop scratched at the tight suit fabric. He hadn’t realized it while they were on the boat, where the ocean wind had been whipping at them the entire time, but now he felt much warmer in the suit than he would’ve been in his tunic. He wished he could take his coat and shirt off, and breathe a little easier. But even after having only known his family for a few short hours, he could tell that this would be met with disdain and confusion. So, he resigned himself to dealing with this inconvenience, quietly, like he often did with problems like this.

He followed behind his family as they traversed through the lower levels of Mykonos’ sprawling cityscape. He saw dozens of people running around, of all sorts of races like kenku and orc and human. They were all tending to their businesses, minding themselves, and there were children playing with each other. For as unnerved as he still was, he had to admit to himself, it was kind of nice to see this place filled with happy regular people, rather than people wailing about the end of the world. Maybe this time they might even avoid starting a riot, it would be a refreshing change of pace.

His father spoke up, “Now remember you three, the Rosemarys like their business talk to be casual, not too grim. We can’t risk driving away a new deal because we intimidate them. Isn’t that right, Aaron?”

“Yes, Dad.” So one of his brother’s names was Aaron. He looked, it was the one with the binder.

“And we can’t get _too_ casual either, Eric.”

Eric shrugged a bit and said, “Yeah, I know, I gotcha.” It was a relief to know both their names.

“And Drop.” Drop went rigid as his father addressed him, “Be sure to make a good first impression, we don’t want a repeat of last time.”

Drop replied, “Yes sir.” Hopefully whatever _last time_ was hadn’t involved any casualties.

“Good, I’ll trust you to keep your word.” His father nodded at him before he turned his attention back to navigating the city. Drop wasn’t sure what to make of that.

As they went higher and higher, the surroundings gradually grew more familiar. They passed into the religious district, with all the temples dedicated to different gods all sitting just where they had been last time. As they walked around the Temple of Primus, Drop pondered on the possibility of going inside. Since his family was dead set on getting to Rosemary Manor, there wasn’t any smooth way to make an exit, at least not without losing them and making things super weird. Maybe he could go inside on their way back from the manor… maybe there would be some answers for him.

The rest of their trek went without any interruptions, and after about a half-hour of walking they made it to their destination. Rosemary Manor stood tall and proud, and even just from the front gate Drop could tell the atmosphere here was as measurably different from before as the rest of the city. There were people conversing casually out in the front yard, and there were many more people that he could see through the windows. Music drifted through the air, as well as the smell of food. Drop realized he must not have eaten since he and his friends had entered the feywild… however long ago that might be, if it had even happened.

He didn’t feel hungry. His guts twisted into knots as he thought about his friends. Where were they mixed in all of this? They must still be alive, that was the agreement with Zavala – make it so none of the things that had put them in danger ever happened. Yet he was still here, but in the wrong way. Were they put in the wrong place too?

As he stewed in his thoughts, he and his family entered the manor. The music was louder, coming from a band that was playing in the middle of the living room. He recognized those guys, it was those people from Vinnie’s village… _the Jebs? Jeffs, whatever._ Did that mean that Vinnie was here? He focused on the area the Jeffs were playing, and yes, there she was. It was Vinnie, although not the Vinnie he’d known.

She was not performing with the band, but she was standing close by. She was a short, fat, and dark skinned woman dressed in a spring colored outfit, happily talking to party guests. She wasn’t a dryad anymore, in this place she probably never was, but it was unmistakable.

The knot in his stomach loosened a little bit.

Eric elbowed him in the side, “Hey! Get a move on, we gotta customer to butter up. You can talk to the cute girl later.”

“…...What?”

Instead of replying, Eric just lightly pulled on Drop’s arm and lead him further into the party.

As they neared the back of the main room, Aaron and his father were already standing by an awfully familiar gnome, making conversation.

“It’s really great to see you guys made it,” Issac said as he looked up at Aaron, “Though I gotta say, you up for putting a pin in this whole deal stuff ‘til the party dies down a bit?”

Aaron replied, “Sorry, Mr. Rosemary, but we’ve just been having the hardest time finding a time to see you -”

“Relax son, it’ll be fine if we don’t talk right now,” Drop’s father put a hand on Aaron’s shoulder.

“Yeah you old stick in the mud,” Eric interjected, still dragging Drop behind him, “It’s a celebration, not a business meeting!”

“That’s what I’m sayin’!” Issac cheered. He held his cup up like a toast before taking a sip. Drop saw his attention swivel toward him when he looked back up from his cup. “Hey there, what’s got you shaken up, wide eyes?”

Drop blinked a few times; he must’ve been staring at everything, he suddenly noticed how dry his eyes were. He shook his head a bit, “Nothing, nothing just, nice party you have going on here Issac. Taking it all in.”

“Sweet!” he toasted again and took another sip. Drop wondered if he’d do that every time, before Issac asked, “So, what’s your name there, tall dark and handsome?”

“Drop, Drop Goodwood.”

“Ah figures you’re with these guys. Anyways, you all go enjoy yourselves, we’ll talk later!”

Aaron held his binder close to his chest as Issac walked back into the densest part of the party. Eric finally let got of Drop’s arm. Drop rubbed at it a bit, not because it hurt but because the interaction had be thoroughly uncomfortable no matter the amount of pain it caused.  
His father addressed the three of them again, “You heard the man, just go and mingle.”   
Drop took the opportunity to disengage from his family, and stumbled a bit over his feet as he headed back toward Vinnie. She was in the same place, and seemed pretty busy talking with other people. He stood in the midst of party goers, by himself now, trying to piece together what he wanted to do next.

He knew for sure that Vinnie would not recognize him. Why should she? She’s never been killed, she’s lead a normal life. As normal a life you can lead if you grow up in a village full of bird people, the normalcy of such a situation being one Drop couldn’t properly judge.

Even so, he still felt the need to talk to her, since she was familiar. Sort of. If she was anything like the Vinnie he had known, she would at least be happy to see him; she was always happy to see people. He clenched at his suit fabric, trying to work up the nerve to say hi. _Deep breaths._

He stepped closer. He tried to tune out all the other people talking and the music. He stepped closer. Vinnie and the others’ conversation became audible; it was something about how Vinnie was embarrassed about her fathers trying to evangelize about Ehlonna at the party, and the others laughing about it. It was inbetween one of these moments of pause for laughter that Drop knew he had to make his move.

Drop swallowed, and cleared his throat. “Hhh… Hi, there. Your name is Lavinnia, right?” He meekly waved his hand at her.

Vinnie looked up from her conversation toward him. “Hi!” She shot a big smile at him, “Where’d you hear about me from, you a fan?” she asked enthusiastically.

“Uh” Drop was stuck on what to say next. He still had his hand up, waving like a pathetic metronome.

Vinnie giggled, “Hey, it’s ok, No need to be shy. We’re all just here to have a good time, right?” She held her hand out for Drop to take, and he paused at the green band of skin around her wedding finger.

“What’s that?” he pointed at it.

Vinnie wiggled her fingers a bit. “Oh that? It’s just a birthmark.”

“That’s a really odd place to have a birthmark.”

“I get that a lot. My dads say it must mean I was married to someone in another life, and I think that’s cute!” She still had her hand held out.

Drop thought back on the deal that Vinnie made with Zavala. Make it so that Zavala never came to this plane of existence, no more geases. What was there to gain in marking her like this, did Zavala take some sort of sick pleasure from it? He was starting to feel sick again.

Instead of taking Vinnie’s hand, he put his own hand up to his head. He knelt over just a bit, and Vinnie squeaked in alarm. “Oh gosh, are you alright?”

“No, no, not really. I...” He wanted to ask if she remembered anything, as stupid as that hope was. “…I didn’t really want to come to this party, but I had to… Family, you know.”

“Ooooooh.” Vinnie put her hand on his arm, the touch was warm, “Here, do you want me to help you find a couch?”

“That might be nice.”


	3. Chapter 3

Vinnie insisted she stay nearby as Drop lied down on a couch. It was out in one of the less active hallways of the manor, where the music was muffled and Drop became more conscious of the ringing in his ears.

“You can go back now, you know, if you want,” he said.

“It’s not any trouble, really, the Jeffs got things covered for at least another 3 songs.” She sat on the couch, her feet kicking over the edge and not reaching the floor.

Drop leaned his head back on the back of the couch, his hands resting on his stomach. He looked up at the ceiling, and let his eyes drift along the patterns that weren’t really there. He sighed, “I didn’t even know there was a party til I woke up today.”

“Really? Issac’s been planning it for a good couple weeks now, your family got the invitation right?”

“Riiiiight. I guess I’m just really out of the loop on everything recently.” He blinked, “Could I ask, do you know why he’s throwing this party?”

“Yeah totally, it’s for our friend, Alias!”

“ _Alias?_ ”

“Well, it’s more like it’s for all the dignitary folks around Lorelei meeting up with him, but he’s basically the guest of honor. I’m the first one that met him when he came from the feywild, you know!”

“...So you were.” Drop closed his eyes, and sighed again. Alias must have gotten popular here, that was nice for him. “Say, do you know if he’s got a friend from that place? She’s a big pink unicorn, so she’d be hard to miss.”

He felt the couch shift as Vinnie scooted closer, “Noooo but did _you_ just say you know a _unicorn_?! I love those guys!”

“Yeah, I do. Her name’s Violet… it’s been uh, a long time since we’ve met though, so I doubt she’d remember me.”

“D’aw I’m sure she’d remember you.”

“You think so?”

“Of course! If you ever meet her again, could you introduce me?”

“Sure.”

Drop chose not to say much else, and let the muffled sounds of the party buzz into the background. He took deep breaths. He was glad Vinnie seemed to get that he wasn’t in the mood for talking anymore. The sounds drifted into nothing and he started to relax for the first time since he’d woken up that morning.

…

“Hey, Drop?” Vinnie whispered, shaking Drop out of his stupor. He shook his head a bit and looked around; they were still in the hallway, still sitting on one of Issac’s couches. He looked and Vinnie had put her hands on his shoulder. “I have to get back to the band!”

“Was I asleep?”

“I wanted to wake you sooner, but you looked so peaceful!”

“It’s fine.” He thought on it and felt that honestly, yes, it was fine.

“D’you wanna come with me?”

He felt his stomach gurgle, and he asked, “Would you know where the food is? Some food might be good.”

“Sure do! Here, follow me!” Vinnie jumped off the couch and waited for Drop to get up before she started to stroll down the hallway.

Back in the brunt of the party, Drop tried to avoid bumping into people, although no one seemed to mind if he brushed past them every other step. Vinnie was managing a bit better, being so short she avoided most of the awkward shoulder brushes that Drop had to endure. They came across the buffet table after a couple minutes of scooting around people. It was decked out in tons of decadent foods the likes of which Drop wasn’t accustomed to indulging in, whether it be due to his monastic lifestyle, or the fact that he wouldn’t have the time to cook it anyways.

“I have to get back to the band, but you keep yourself well fed there, you hear?” Vinnie chimed.

“Sure, uh… thanks.” He shyly mumbled as Vinnie skipped away. He looked toward the band, who were still in the middle of the party; they were just finishing a song, and the lead singer was stepping away from his position out in front so that Vinnie could take his spot.

He directed his attention back to the food. There were pastries and sandwiches and salads and cheeses and far too many other things to pick from, but he eventually decided to pile a plate with some fruits and crackers and a couple of sliced pieces of meat on sticks that he was pretty sure were sausages. It was a plain meal, but he wasn’t in an adventurous mood to try new things at the moment.

As he was eating, Vinnie started up on her first song. It was surreal, hearing her sing again. He stood by the buffet table and just watched her, and listened for a while. He never thought to say it before, but she had a nice voice. If he got the chance to talk to her again, he’d try to tell her that.

His thoughts were broken by the sound of a commotion at the front of the house. He looked over the crowd of people. The doors had just opened, and people were spreading out to make way for the new comer. It was a tall and pale man wearing a long green robe, with silky blond hair that fell over his shoulders. Behind him, there was a small entourage of people following him. Most notably, there an older looking woman with a short strawberry blonde haircut. Not far behind them trotted in a big pink unicorn, horn fully intact, strutting like she owned the place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the part were I stopped writing after probably writing the whole rest of this in 2 to 3 feverish nights of passion. If I never continue this just know the rest of it is self-indulgent "everyone becomes friends (again???)" plot with the only conflict being the existential absurdity of it all.


End file.
